Historically Speaking from a Magical Perspective
by ZeFandomKat
Summary: Harry Potter's fifth year is about to get far more interesting and confusing than even he thought possible as Hogwarts gets a new strange teacher and several foreign exchange students. And with Voldemort back, how could things get any more hectic? Harry Potter and Hetalia crossover, there will be some GerIta and maybe other pairings.
1. Chapter 1: A Proposition

This is my new Harry Potter and Hetalia crossover! My mom actually bought the entire Harry Potter series (Finally!) so I am currently rereading the 5th book, the year that this story will be taking place in. Of course, I will alter it to fit the plotline that I have planned out. I hope you enjoy it, as these are both topics that are very near and dear to my hearts~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Hetalia.**

**Chapter One: A Preposition**

England ignored the rain lashing against the windows of his study while he filled out paperwork. Perhaps if he wasn't so accustomed to it it would startle him, but this was really just common everyday occurrence, and he needed to get the papers about the "Police in Plain Clothes" finished so that he could finally be rid of it. So no matter how loathe he was to do it, he had to buckle down, otherwise people would think no more of him than America. Besides, it would take much more than a simple rain storm to shake him-

And that's when he felt it. A deep, sharp, sudden pain flared in the center of his chest, right over his heart. This was accompanied by a splitting headache and even a nosebleed. England dropped his pen and bent in half, clutching at his shirt in a vain attempt to ease the pain.

One of his citizens, somewhere in the world, had just died.

'W-What?' England thought to himself. 'Why is it this bad out of nowhere…?' Nations have always felt the ebb and flow of the lives in their borders, but they are only truly aware of their own citizens. They can tell when someone under their care has died no matter which country they are in at that moment. This feeling manifests in the form of, usually minor, chest pain. Only in the event of major catastrophe do they experience anything like what England was going through now...But as far as England was aware, everything was fine. The economy was alright, the politicians were getting along as well as normal, there hadn't been any major wars in at least thirteen years…

England froze, blood dripping down his face and onto the wooden floor.

Thirteen years. It had been thirteen years since the last battle against...

Immediately England was up, running out of the room, down the stairs, and into his basement. Panting, he reached the bottom and lit a couple of candles. They threw dancing shadows across the walls lined with bookshelves and various odds and ends. He ignored all of these in favor of a clear patch of space in the middle of the room's floor. England withdrew a piece of chalk from his pocket, and quickly, yet steadily, traced a circle on the floor. Then, along the outer rim, he wrote a single, repeating sentence, "Ostendite mihi quid agatur*." Standing erect once more, England walked over to a cabinet on the far side of the room, and, after glancing hurriedly through its contents, took out a small vial of a cloudy substance. Unstopping it, he crossed back over and poured it directly into the middle of the circle. Immediately, it filled with what seemed to be some sort of vortex, swirling around ominously.

England let out a breathe of air, and started chanting.

"Ostendite mihi quid agatur. Ostendite mihi quid agatur. Ostendite mihi quid agatur. Ostendite mihi quid agatur!" His voice gradually increased in volume, until, with sudden deafening silence, he stopped. There, in the vortex before him, was a collection of images all moving rapidly. In one there showed some sort of maze, surrounded by a large crowd of people all seemingly cheering as if at a ball game. In another, there was a young boy surrounded by tall hedges (he was probably inside the maze) running about as if to escape something, or to get somewhere. In yet another, there was the same boy accompanied by another in a graveyard. As England watched that particular scene, he felt a shadow of the pain he felt earlier (thankfully the bleeding had stopped) as he saw the second boy fall to the ground, dead, after a burst of green light.

Another picture contained the first boy with a man this time. Upon seeing the man, England's heart seemed to stop.

There he was, after all this time. Good as new.

Lord Voldemort.

Which undoubtedly made the boy Harry Potter, a mere fourteen year old who was still learning how to cast a respectable transfiguration spell, the one dueling him amidst a glowing dome of light.

Wait.

England squinted his eyes and attempted to lean a little closer.

That was old magic, magic England hadn't seen performed by anyone other than a country in many, many years. And judging by the astonished expressions on Harry and Voldemort's faces, along with the stunned profiles of the Death Eaters, they hadn't been expecting this either. England examined everything critically, from the figures that emerged from Voldemort's wand to the intensity with which the spell had seemed to grasp the two foes. Needless to say, it was a moment that must have been filled with high emotions, at least from Harry's end.

England finally drew his gaze away from that image and instead looked at the final picture in the circle. It was once again an outside view of the maze, yet this time with a significant difference. Instead of the happy and animated expressions the crowd had worn before, now they all seemed to be horror struck, no doubt by the confusing predicament which was taking place at the start of the maze.

There were several people surrounding a boy on the ground, who was clutching the plainly dead body of another person. England watched in sadness as he saw an older man push his way through the surrounding crowd to join Harry. He cradled the dead man, and England could plainly tell that he had been his father as he seemed to howl with grief. It was an expression that England had seen many times in his life, and had even experienced…

Shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts, England straightened up and, with a clear "Id est omnia**." made the vortex vanish, with it no trace of it ever being there except for the drawn circle and the surrounding mantra. England began to pace the room, his hand in his hair as he mumbled restlessly to himself.

"Voldemort back...But how...Must have something to do with Harry...Everyone's in danger now, what do I do...What _do_ I do?" England asked, coming to a complete standstill as he pondered this. He placed his head in his hands, overwhelmed by everything that was taking place so quickly.

He hadn't even been involved with the Magical Community for around a hundred years, let alone when the last confrontation with Voldemort took place. He had had a place in the Ministry of Magic just as he has one with the muggle ministry, but he had noticed that the corruption of the magical government was steadily increasing with each passing year. England had known that it would soon reach a point where they wouldn't even listen to him anymore, simply because he wasn't human. So he had left, swearing to not get involved with the magical community directly anymore.

Now, however, he knew that he had no choice but to rejoin the magical world. This was simply too big to let go unnoticed. But what would he do, and how would he do it…? England's thoughts drifted back to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, that had saved his people over a decade before when he was only an infant.

With Voldemort back, Harry would be in grave danger. Someone would need to protect him and, despite Albus Dumbledore's reputation, England felt that even more people were required to help insure Harry's safety. But how would he go about it? He couldn't just pop in and say, "Hello, I'm the anthropomorphic representation of England, and I'm here to look after Harry Potter". He would never be allowed near the boy, and besides, it would be best if this was done with the utmost secrecy. So that left only one option…

England would have to go to Hogwarts. Preferably as a teacher, so that he would then be able to go where he pleased, usually, and it wouldn't seem quite as suspicious if he was caught keeping an eye on Harry. In fact, he could probably just tell them the truth, but only as to his cause. He would have to be careful about who he trusted, and really, that was only a back up plan anyway.

But England knew that he wouldn't be able to do this alone, no matter how much he would've liked to. Even if he became Harry's teacher, he wouldn't be with him every moment of the day. What England really needed was for someone to go in undercover as a student and befriend Harry so as to keep watch over him at all times. And for that to happen, England would need to ask for help. He shivered as he ascended back up the stairs to his office once more.

Who to ask? It was a good idea to get at least a handful of the others, that way the odds of one of them being in Harry's house would be increased. Definitely not any younger nations, as they wouldn't really know how to conduct themselves or keep their true identities hidden. Maybe Germany and Japan. But if he asked Germany then Italy would want to come, which would be a bit of a downside as England didn't know if Italy was quite up to the task. Then he would ask China and, another shiver, Russia. The two were good at covert operations, and despite how England hadn't always gotten along with both of them, he knew they would be reliable aspects.

England wrote down the names of all the nations he'd thought of so far and paused. Looking at them like that, he realized that the odds of any one of them being in Gryffindor were rather slim. In fact, there was only really one country England could think of off the top of his head that fit the bill.

Sighing, England added America's name to the list.

Maybe just one more...but who...

'I guess I'll ask the frog,' England thought, grimacing as he placed France's name underneath America's. 'He's surprisingly good at coercing information out of people, so he'd be good to have in one of the other house's to keep track on what they were saying.'

Placing the pen down, England thought over his choices, trying to make certain that he had made the right decision. Then he picked up his desk phone and dialed a number that he didn't use that frequently. It picked up on the second ring.

"Hello? England?" The deep baritone voice asked, it's english thickly accented.

"Yes, hello Germany. I called to ask a favor of you," England replied, getting right down to business. He knew Germany wasn't liable to appreciate small talk, and besides, this needed to be sorted out as soon as possible.

"What is it?" England could hear the underlying tone of curiosity, but otherwise the other nation was as firm and business like as usual. Taking a deep breathe, England launched into his plan.

"I'm going to need your help, along with a few others. Here's what I need…"

*Latin: Show me what is going on.

**Latin: That is all.


	2. Chapter 2: To Be Young Again

Wow I can't believe people actually like this, it makes me so happy. Just knowing that even a few of you are interested gives me motivation to continue. This is important, because otherwise I take forever to update. Anyway, that you so much!

And as to the guest review on the last chapter, the answer is yes, I will include a few pairings. They won't be the major focal point of this story, but they will play into it. GerIta for sure, and I'm thinking Ameripan and FrUk. (Those last two aren't decided for sure, as I also ship UsUk) I don't think I'll be having Russia or China in any romantic relationships, I'll barely be able to write their normal characters as it is. I just don't have a great enough grasp on their personalities to be able to write them in a relationship. With that said, if you ever feel a character is OOC, please tell me. I really need it so I can improve my writing with them.

Another heads up, I won't be including their accents in their dialogue. You can probably imagine them in your head, you don't need me to write them out for you.

**Chapter Two: To Be Young Again**

"Tell us again, one more time please," Germany asked, looking England in the eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. The others nodded, silently supporting the German's question.

England sighed. After he had contacted everyone (Everyone being Germany, North Italy, Japan, America, France, China, and Russia) he had had them all agree to meet him at his house on August 19th. During that interval he had been trying to set everything up so that his plan would actually be able to happen. It wouldn't be good if they showed up at Hogwarts out of the blue.

"I am going to transform all of you into fifteen year olds, and I've already enrolled you into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will be a teacher at the school," He told the gathered nations. Thinking back to when he asked for the job, England was glad to have had it gone so smoothly.

FLASH BACK

Looking down at the completed letter and resume, England nodded his head in satisfaction. It had taken him a while to find the correct format, and then he had had to fill the entire thing out. He'd had to drag up old acquaintances to serve as his recommendations, and that was tricky in and of itself since many of them were dead. He'd also researched the recent history of the school, since although he was aware of the major points he was sorely lacking in the finesse of the school as of late. But after all of that, finally it was finished. Hopefully it would convince the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, to take him on.

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore:_

_I am writing to ask you if I could possibly take on the position of History of Magic Professor. I understand that you already have one, but he is in fact a ghost, and studies conducted in recent years show that the students haven't been doing the best in the subject due to the fact that he only repeats the same topic over and over. I'm not saying to get rid of him, I'm merely suggesting that you allow a different teacher for a single year to see if it helps the students at all. Of course, if at the end of the year you decide that you liked his method of teaching better, I will understand completely and leave you in peace to direct Hogwarts. Enclosed in this letter I have included a list of my capabilities and my recommendations. I hope to be able to see you this year._

_Also, I would like to ask you about the possibility of foreign exchange students visiting Hogwarts. I feel that they would provide valuable insight for the other students about wizarding in other regions of the world. _

_Sincerely,_

_Arthur Kirkland _

On another page he had placed the odds and ends that would look impressive on an application. He, of course, didn't say everything that he could do, as that would look suspicious and make Dumbledore doubt his legitimacy. That was something England strived to avoid for as long as possible, though he suspected that he wouldn't be able to elude his keen eye and mind forever. It was of the utmost importance that no one found out about their true identities.

England spent the time waiting for a reply by brushing up on his knowledge of recent wizarding events. He was just reading about the Quidditch World Cup that took place last year (Ireland won, now England knew why he had been even more insufferable for the past few months) when the fire in his fireplace turned bright green and a letter fired out of it. Calmly reaching over and picking it up, England opened it to read the Headmaster's answer.

_Dear Mr. Kirkland:_

_I would be delighted to have you as History of Magic Professor for a year. You are correct, it is high time for a change in subject material. Professor Binns will remain on campus should you need any help, you'll most likely find him in the Teachers' Lounge. _

_And concerning your idea for foreign students, I think it would be a wondrous opportunity. If you know of any that are interested in visiting our school, please send me their information in a return letter._

_Term starts September 1, but teachers must arrive by no later than the 20th of August. I look forward to you joining our staff._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

England blinked in surprise. That was actually quite easy and simple. He hadn't thought that Dumbledore would so easily accept him in. Of course he was glad, but it still made him slightly uneasy. However, he pushed those feelings aside, and instead focused on filling out 'paperwork' that would allow the others to attend Hogwarts as foreign students. He would just have to think carefully about Dumbledore's actions at another time, most likely after he had actually met the man.

FLASH BACK ENDS

"So, how exactly are you going to make us younger, dude?" America asked, reclining in one of England's stuffed chairs in the living room. Everyone was in there, and England was glad that the room was spacious with plenty of places to sit. They were all looking at him in varying degrees of interest and attention; Italy was playing with one of Germany's hands while occasionally glancing around the room at the knick knacks England had acquired during his lifetime. Germany, of course, had his attention focused solely on the matter at hand, as did Japan, China, France, and Russia. America had his feet on the coffee table, despite the many numerous times England had told him off for it, and was loudly smacking some bubble gum. He even accentuated his question by blowing a bubble and making it pop noisily.

"Shì*, and how do you expect us to fit in with such young people from your country?" China asked, sitting forwards in his seat with an intense look on his feet. Germany and Japan nodded to show that they wanted to know as well, while Russia smiled at England.

"Da, and why must we help you again? I want to know before I decide to make myself vulnerable to you." Russia's words seemed to be reflected in the others' eyes, and England took a deep breath to ready himself for the long explanation waiting.

"I suppose it's best for me to answer your question first Russia. I need your help because otherwise there is every possibility that Harry Potter will be killed, which would be very bad for all of us because," Again, England took a breath. This part will certainly make them feel almost as rattled as he was. "Voldemort has returned."

His words had the effect he was expecting. Immediately everyone was paying him attention with grim looks on their faces; even Italy was focused now, no longer smacking Germany's hand around but holding onto it tightly.

"Is he really?" France asked, face paler than normal.

"Yes. He returned last week," England replied, his face stony.

They all knew of Voldemort. Of how he had killed so many people years back, and had done so many unspeakable things. While his work had been mainly focused in the United Kingdom, they were all aware that he would have eventually spread his dominion over the rest of the world. Having seen how badly England and his brothers Scotland, Ireland, and Wales had been affected by it, none of them were anxious for that to happen, both for their own sakes and those of their people.

After a few moments, England continued. "I have a potion brewed that will turn your appearances younger, and then I have some pendants for you to wear," Here England held up one of the pendants. It had the Italian colors on it, and appeared to almost be some sort of gemstone, "that will extend the potion's effects throughout the year. That way you won't randomly sprout up during one of your classes."

"Hey, look, those are my colors!" Italy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the necklace in England's grasp.

England nodded. "Yes, I put the colors of your flags on them as a sort of keepsake for you. If anyone asks, say it's another way of showing where you are from."

The others nodded in affirmation, Italy still smiling slightly at the pendant. England cleared his throat and continued as he finally lowered his arm.

"And about how you'll fit in, you don't have to completely. You're supposed to be foreigners, like you are. The only thing you should know is how wizards act around each other, but you should just focus on the ways from your countries. No doubt that the students will want to know about your traditions. I trust that you all have some experience in your magic…?" He didn't really need to ask, because even though England was one of the nations with the strongest connection to his magical side, they all had them.

Once everyone had confirmed that they did, in fact, know their way around their national wizarding traditions, England stood up.

"Then follow me," He said, and led them down to his basement.

"Why are we going to your basement man?" America asked, peering uneasily around at the walls. The others had already filled out the room, and England was busy filling cups full of the potion that was in a large cauldron in one corner.

"Because we don't need anyone accidently peering in and seeing you change into teenagers. Now, drink this," England replied, handing America the first cup of the questionable substance.

America sniffed it hesitantly and drew back, making a disgusted face. "Dude, what's in this? It smells like something crawled in it and died." Italy, who had also just been handed a cup, balked and handed it off to Germany, who took it with a raised eyebrow but no further comment at the moment.

Smirking, England nonchalantly said, "Oh, that's not too far from the truth." Becoming serious once again, he gave Russia a cup. "Look, it's fine, you just need to drink it quickly to get it over with. School starts in a couple of weeks, and you'll be spending the time until then in the Leaky Cauldron that's right next to Diagon Alley, a wizard's shopping center in London. Then you'll go to Kings Cross Station and board the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 and three quarters. Just, you need to get a move on."

The others all looked at each other, hesitant to be the first one. Then, America sighed, tilted back his head, and downed the potion in one. Immediately he began to shrink, although he didn't go down too much lower than his normal height. In a matter of moments he looked just like an average teenager. An average teenager who had stuck out his tongue and was trying to wipe it off with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Ugh that was disgusting!" His initiative was enough for the rest, and pretty soon there were a bunch of '15' year old boys standing in front of England, all wearing differing looks of distaste. England smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Alright, time to get your school supplies!"

*Mandarin- A way to say yes


	3. Chapter 3: Preparing for School

Sorry for the super long wait guys! But this is how long it normally takes me (Ha ha ha…), so this will more than likely not be the last time that I drop the ball like this. So, I'm apologizing for that as well, in advance.

Someone asked how I'm going to put the couples. I think I've mentioned it several times, but the focal point of the story will not be on any ships. So with that said, mainly any ships you see will be pre-established and mainly fluffy.

One final thing. I think that I've noticed some discrepancies in the timeline of these first few chapters. That is entirely my fault. Let me clarify right now: England first had that feeling right when Cedric died. Then, when the others are there, it's proceeded a couple of months to August. That way it's only a couple of weeks until school starts. I'm so sorry if you've been confused by this.

**Chapter Three: Preparing for School and Life as a Teacher**

England sighed as he plopped down into a chair by the bar at the Leaky Cauldron. It had been a very long, very _exhausting_ day of helping the others get their school supplies. They had been all over the place, running excitedly from shop to shop, although that was mainly America. And they had garnered a couple of glances from the passerby, but thankfully nothing more than that. They did not need to have anyone's suspicions before they even fully began their mission.

But thankfully it was over now. Everything was bought (England was glad that his vault at Gringotts had contained as large a sum as it did. Otherwise there would have been no way he could've paid for everything they needed), and he had made arrangements with the barkeeper Tom to have the other seven stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the remaining time until the start of term. He had even scheduled three taxis to transport them to Kings Cross Station on the first of September (they would meet them at the bookstore across the street, as the muggles, of course, can't see the Leaky Cauldron). They were all up in their rooms now, either examining their new things, discussing the upcoming times, or asleep. All that remained was going to the school himself.

But he had been delaying the inevitable for a couple of hours now. Even though he was several hundred years old, England felt nervous. Only slightly, but enough to put him on edge. What if something were to backfire? He even felt as if he had overlooked something important, something that needed to be taken care of…

Of course! England jolted back in his chair as he realized what he had forgotten. How could he have been so foolish to not realize it sooner? Rising hurriedly to his feet, he gave a quick nod to Tom and swiftly went up the stairs to his room. Closing the door behind him, he headed to the desk, sat down, and took out one of the few regular pieces of paper that he had brought with him. Picking up a pen, he wrote:

_Dear Matthew,_

_I am sorry for asking you this such short notice, and for not talking to you about it sooner, but I need your help. Myself and several of the others (Your brother, Yao, Ivan, Ludwig, Feliciano, Kiku, and Francis) are going to be...preoccupied for the remainder of the year. We won't be able to attend any meetings. I can't tell you at this moment in time what exactly we are doing, but it is a matter of utmost importance. _

_I need your help, Matthew. If you could please, tell my brothers Ian, Patrick, and Cadfael that I am trying to halt the things that happened 15 years ago. Tell them that they can reach me in that old way. Also, Matthew, if you have anything you need to tell Alfred, let me know and I will make sure it reaches him._

_Thank you so much._

_Sincerely, _

_Arthur_

Leaning back, England reread the letter over in case he had missed anything. He had referred to Canada and everyone else by their human names just in case anyone managed to get the letter and read it. The odds of that happening weren't likely, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Scotland, Ireland, and Wales would know what he meant by 'the events of 15 years ago' and the 'old way'. That would ensure that England and the others had knowledge into what was going on at the meetings in their absence.

He'd addressed the letter to Canada for several reasons, the first and foremost being that he would be the first to notice their absence. He and America, for all of their differences, were still very close, so England knew that Canada would have been extremely worried for his brother. Of course he would wonder about what they were up to, but Canada wasn't likely to bother and pester him about it. He possessed the ability to sense when to pry and when not to, so he would be able to tell to leave well enough alone until England was able to inform him.

Satisfied, England carefully folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. Laying it down upon the desk, England withdrew his wand and gently tapped it once. "Nunc vade*," he said, and it promptly vanished without a trace. England sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his face. Nothing left for it, now he absolutely had to go to Hogwarts.

After having made sure to send off his luggage in the same manner that he had the letter, England knocked on the door that led to the room Germany and Italy were sharing. He only had to wait a moment before the door was opened by the (now much shorter) blond.

"Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at England.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving for the school now," England replied, shifting from foot to foot as he was still nervous about the whole thing.

Germany nodded his head in understanding. "Danke, Arthur." England inclined his head and made to leave, but he stopped when he heard Germany call after him. "And I'm sure you'll do well as a teacher."

Glancing back at the blond, England smiled slightly and inclined his head once more. Then he continued on his way, and he heard the door close behind him. To himself, England thought that it was a good thing Italy had been working with Germany on his people skills lately.

England arrived at Hogsmeade with a crack, as he had apparated there. Rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks that he always got when he traveled in such a fashion (he had long since outgrown nausea), England began working his way to the gates. He had informed Dumbledore that he would be arriving that night, and he had been assured in turn by the Headmaster that he would have no trouble entering the school.

As England walked the streets of Hogsmeade, he reflected on the last time he had been in the village. It had been in 1832, and it had been quite a bit smaller then than it is now. For one thing, the Three Broomsticks had been renovated, as it was nearly as old as the village itself (which in turn was nearly as old as Hogwarts). He could see, off in the distance, quite a few more houses that had been added to the outskirts to accommodate the increase in the town's population. But some things were the same. Like he had thought, the Three Broomsticks was still there, probably still run by the Rosmerta family, and the streets were basically the same. This was something that England supposed he should credit the wizards with. While the 'muggles' were constantly changing and innovating the world around them, the magical population could be counted on to maintain nearly the exact same. While this did cause many problems in their society (their acceptance of muggles, their understanding of technology, etc.) to England and the other nations, it was a source of comfort, as everything else they'd ever know was always changing and shifting.

Finally, England reached the gates. These, too, had stayed the same, and it was with a slightly lighter heart that England reached up and touched the lock as Dumbledore had told him to. Immediately, it swung open, and he was free to enter the grounds. Looking back at the once again shut gates, England deduced that Dumbledore had somehow enchanted them to recognize the touch of the teachers and school administrators. An impressive feat of magic, but from what England knew of Dumbledore, that was hardly out of the ordinary.

The front doors opened up at his touch as well, and at last England was inside of the school. It had been so many years since he had been here, but Hogwarts had changed even less than Hogsmeade. The only difference that had occurred over the centuries is that some new paintings had been added. Everything else- the staircases, the walls, the floors- had been left unaltered. That was good news for England, as that meant that he knew where everything was. For the other nations arriving soon, it would be a different matter, but they would have their fellow students to help them out in that matter. So England started up to the higher levels, on his way to the Headmaster's office.

Also in his letter, Dumbledore had requested that England go to his office as soon as possible once he had arrived at the school. Although normally England would have to put away his luggage, at the moment it was stored in a handy little place in the fourth dimension (courtesy of one of the ancient magical spells that he was well practiced in) and he would be able to easily retrieve it once he was in his chambers. For now, seeing Dumbledore was at the top of his list. He needed to meet his new employer face to face, and England also needed to determine how he would proceed to hide and the others true natures for the entirety of the school year. This would require for him to gain an understanding of the Headmaster as soon as possible. Thankfully, though, he really did still know his way around, so he was able to locate the office with ease.

It was still guarded by gargoyles, although he could tell that they were different from the ones that had originally been placed there. No doubt they had been damaged in some sort of magical accident during their years of service, giving rise to the need to have them replaced with a new pair. This also served England well, as these two would not know how long he had been alive, and thus be able to tell Dumbledore that there was something not quite right about the new professor.

"Password?" The one on the right asked. England racked his mind to find the words Dumbledore had given him.

After at last locating it, England said, "Lemon Sherbert." The gargoyle guardians leaped aside immediately, and striding past them England ascended the staircase to the Headmaster's office. Once at the top, he knocked politely on the door.

"Come in," A voice called, and England opened the door.

It wasn't exactly like what he had been anticipating. England didn't really know what he had expected, but he was certain there had been fairly less magical devices whirring around or whistling on all available surfaces. Of course, in hindsight, it was rather obvious that a wizard of Dumbledore's age and prowess would have collected certain instruments over the years that would aid him in running the school. But there were many books, and as usual the portraits of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses lined the walls. Currently they were either talking quietly among themselves or gazing curiously at England. He could detect no source for their curiosity, however, so he determined that they were simply wondering what he would be like as a teacher.

And there, behind a desk near the rear of the room, sat Dumbledore himself. His beard was long and white, as was his hair. His eyes were hidden behind his glasses, although England knew that they would probably contain some secret, hidden knowledge known only to him. He had his hands laid out plainly in front of him, folded over each other in a way that gave him an air of polite interest. As England made his way over, he stood up (he was taller than England, many people were), and extended his hand out.

"Hello Professor Kirkland, it is very nice to meet you," Said Dumbledore, smiling warmly.

Taking the hand in his, England shook it while replying, "Likewise Headmaster." As Dumbledore sat down and gestured for England to do the same, he continued, "I am so sorry for not being able to see you sooner. I know it is a bit last minute."

Dumbledore waved away England's words. "Oh, no matter. You did make the date for the teacher's arrival, so I thank you for that. Lemon drop?" He extended a tin of the yellow sweet out to England.

"Ah, yes, thank you," England said, gently taking one. Dumbledore helped himself as well, and popped one into his mouth as he continued to gaze at England. After a moment of this, England found himself asking, "Is there something I could do for you Headmaster?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. You see, I am curious about you Professor Kirkland. How come one so young has such skill or experience?" Dumbledore asked frankly, inspecting England closely.

Relaxing slightly now that he knew what Dumbledore was curious about, England started to tell the cover story he had concocted. "Well, I do a lot of traveling, you see. All over the world, to many different countries. In my travels I have encountered a variety of...misadventures, I suppose you'd say, so I've learned rather quickly to pick up as many things as I can in a new place." He was thankful that he had limited the amount of information he had supplied Dumbledore with about his abilities. It wouldn't be good for him to know that England was well versed in the old pure Latin magic.

Nodding slightly, Dumbledore remarked, "I suppose that explains your inquiry for a foreign exchange program."

"Yes, and for several other reasons as well. It will be a valuable learning experience for all of the students, experiencing something different from their own culture but still fundamentally the same," Responded England, his face showing his firm belief in the matter. Perhaps it was simply a nation thing, for them to heavily respect the importance of culture. In any case, he knew he would always have a certain affinity for people, places, _history_.

Dumbledore hummed and leaned back slightly in his chair, looking up at the ceiling and smiling slightly. "Well, then it's certainly a good thing that you knew some schools that would be willing to send us their students at such short notice. A result of your travels, I presume?"

Nodding, England replied, "Yes, I took every opportunity I could to visit foreign schools. It was crucial to understanding how their different wizarding communities acted, you see, and I've always had a rather insatiable thirst for knowledge."

"That, I think, is something we have in common, Professor Kirkland," Dumbledore said, this time giving a full smile to England. Then he stood up, England following suit. "We will be having a staff meeting tomorrow, to ascertain that we know and understand one another. In the mean time, do you know where your office and chambers are?"

"No sir, I don't," England responded, following Dumbledore out of the office and down the staircase.

"An easy fix then," Dumbledore said and, with a slight twinkle in his eye, he moved down the corridor to the nearest suit of armor. Tapping it twice with his wand, he instructed, "Take Professor Kirkland to his room, please. You know where it is."

Immediately the suit armor came to life, clanging down from atop its pedestal and promptly marching off down the corridor. England followed it, not surprised as he already knew that basically everything at Hogwarts was under heavy enchantments. "Have a good evening Headmaster."

"You as well, Professor Kirkland," He heard calling after him, and when he glanced behind, back at the two gargoyles guarding the entrance, the wall was just sliding closed.

Cadfael- Wales, it means "battle prince" Weird yeah, but I just needed to find a name.

Ian- Scotland

Patrick- Ireland, and I put it because I couldn't think of anything else.

*Latin- means "Now go".


End file.
